Yellow Light
by Darksknight
Summary: He'd been alone- so, so alone- that if he'd possessed it, he was sure he would have been consumed by his own hollow at some point in the year without his power. "Rely on me," Rukia said. "You know I won't dissapear again. And if I do, I'll find a way back. I promise you, Ichigo." (Two Part short story- IchiRuki)
1. Yellow Light- Part One

Yellow Light

No one really seemed to notice how he walked quickly- edgy and fast, like he was trying to get away from something. No one noticed how he was always looking over his shoulder as he walked, or how he checked underneath his desk before he sat down and rose again. They didn't notice his lack of apatite, or his quiet, or how he breathed shallow and slow.

They did notice that he'd relapsed back into some of his classic old-days behavior. His smile appeared now and again, and he would raise his hand to announce he had to do something before darting out of class suddenly, and he seemed more down-to-earth than he'd been for a year at least. They all noticed how he'd gotten better; so much so that they forgot to notice that there was something wrong to begin with.

She didn't forget.

Ichigo loved- no, he avoided the word loved- he... liked. He really liked talking to Rukia. She would follow him on the terraces just to the side of the sidewalks and talk quietly to him, sometimes falling silent, sometimes rambling on her own. He loved- liked. He really liked it.

They tended to walk further than they needed to. Ichigo wouldn't say that he avoided home, per se, but he found himself taking longer and longer routes back to his house, so that on most nights he found himself unlocking the door in late dark. More often than not he'd come to find dinner left out on the table for him. Usually he'd cover it in plastic wrap and stick it in the fridge, thinking that maybe he'd eat it for lunch the next day. And usually, he didn't.

That night, he wasn't feeling so well. She wasn't exactly as chipper either. They walked, quietly, her above him so that their shadows blended together on the cement below. Every now and then he'd say something, or she'd say something, and the other would reply with a word. They'd fall back into comfortable silence and keep walking.

Ichigo didn't know how come Rukia just _got_ him in this way no one else did. She knew when he needed silence, or a laugh, or a kick in the ass. It was as though she could look in his eyes and see straight into his head, or his soul- he didn't know. It was nice. He didn't have to fake anything around her. If he tried, she'd know right away, anyhow.

The dim yellow light of the streetlamps cast her hair in a faint glow, now and then, as they passed beneath them. She looked dutifully ahead, like they were marching towards some fixed point in fate or destiny- a battle of some sort he couldn't see just yet. She often wore such an expression of seriousness around him, but only when they were alone. He stared at her often and carefully, aware that she really could disappear from his sight at any moment. It had happened before, after all.

"There's a hollow, up ahead." She said, suddenly.

He'd felt it to. "I'm on it."

They took care of the monster quickly. Fighting felt good after such a long time of absence, but it had also lost a lot of it's magic. He'd used to think himself a hero, cutting down soul-sucking monsters. The curtain had been drawn aside, though, to reveal he was fighting what remained of lonely people. He'd been alone- so, so alone- that if he'd possessed it, he was sure he would have been consumed by his own hollow at some point in the year without his power.

Rukia seemed to feel the same way. She looked grim as she re-sheathed her sword; absentmindedly wiping blood off of her palms with a white rag she'd kept tucked away somewhere on her person. She looked over and offered it to him after a moment, smiling softly.

He could feel a stripe of blood cooling over his face. He gladly accepted her handkerchief and rubbed his face clean, before handing it back. The rag had been white, but by the time she was tucking it away again, it was crimson. Like the soul thread of a man turned death god.

Ichigo turned and watched as a white butterfly fluttered away in the night, unfaltering in the slight breeze.

Rukia sighed. "We should get going. It's late."

She wasn't wrong. He had no idea how long they'd been out- time seemed to flow oddly since the end of the winter war. He nodded, but really didn't want to go back to the house. He felt like wandering for miles and miles on end, until he found that thing he was looking for.

What was he looking for?

"Ichigo."

He looked up, pushing his idle thoughts to the back of his mind. "What?"

She was looking at the tree line, peering deep into the forest behind them. She didn't look with any great intensity, but her ardent concentration gave him pause. He turned to look, too, but all he saw was darkness.

"What is it?" He asked.

"There's a path." she said, almost sounding confused. "Into the woods."

"Well, yeah. There's lots of those."

"All the way out here? What's the purpose?"

"It's a hiking trail, or something. People come out here just to walk. The path is so that they don't get lost, I guess." He rubbed at the back of his neck for a second before turning to step into his body. He grabbed her gigia off of the ground and held it out in front of him for her. "Come on, someone could see." The deadweight of the fake girl in his arms always made him a little uncomfortable, especially when it was Rukia and her head that lolled lifelessly to the side.

She nodded without looking at him. She turned and pressed back into her false body. The cold skin of it warmed beneath his fingers suddenly, as her eyes sprung open. He lowered her to the ground, but his hands stayed on her hips for a moment before he let her go.

He didn't love to touch her- to know she was real. He liked it. Just liked it.

She turned to look back at the path that lead into the woods. He knew that she wasn't going to drop it until she'd had the opportunity to investigate, and he still didn't want to go home, so he sighed and shook his head- resigned.

"Come on." He said, starting towards it. "Let's get this over with." He acted like it was a pain, but really, he was slightly curious as well. He didn't come this way often, and so seeing the path made him want to explore the area a little further. This was one of the places he'd not seen during the war, and that made it holy in all regards.

She smiled and hopped once before hurrying after him, going so far as to skip into his line of view. "A hiking trail." She said, smiling. "This will prove to be interesting."

"Don't count on it. It's probably just what I said- a path."

"But it's bound to lead somewhere. That's what paths are for."

"Not this kind. These are just there so you can wander."

She hummed a quick, "hm," and then said, "That seems to be in our interest as of late."

He didn't reply. He didn't have to- she knew that he agreed, and that there was really nothing left to say on the matter. There was something about her words, though, that made him feel guilty. He really shouldn't have been out so late- Yuzu was probably devastated to have left out yet another dinner for a brother that never seemed to be home anymore. (A ghost, they'd called him. Dead, but not past. A ghost.)

As they began down the worn trail, they walked side by side. It was slightly chilly out, but neither seemed to notice. They looked passingly at the trees and plants, or up at the small splotches of sky that peered through the small gaps in the canopy. It got darker the further they went, but there was always that small yellow light of the street lamps behind them- a beacon to the world they'd left for the time being.

Just when Ichigo was beginning to think they should turn back and head home, so that maybe they could get a little sleep before school, they came upon a small clearing. There was a bench carved from a tree on one side, and a small natural pond on the other. Rukia stepped out into the clear first, heading to the pond. She stood at the edge and looked down into the water for a second before looking back up at Ichigo.

"Brother's pond always has koi fish in it. There's only tadpoles here, though."

"That's because Byakuya keeps his pond stocked when Yachiru isn't stealing from it." He walked over to the bench and sat on one side, letting out a long breath. The air in the woods was clearer than in the city. It felt nice.

"Doesn't everyone keep their ponds stocked? What's the point if they're empty?" She walked over to him, hands on her hips.

"The pond doesn't belong to anyone, Rukia. It's just... there." She'd grown up near a river, hadn't she? Weren't there any natural ponds to the sides of it to teach her that pools weren't just the mark of the aristocracy? "It's natural."

"Hm." She sat beside him, suddenly, glancing back out at the pond. "Well, it is rather... asymmetrical. I guess it's not so decorative."

"Exactly."

For a moment, it was quiet. There was a frog somewhere, croaking now and then, but they didn't pay it any heed. The yellow light had disappeared completely, and with its absence, the two could almost believe they were the only ones in the entire world.

He could sense that Rukia was working up her nerve to say something. He hoped that she just wanted to go home, but knew it was probably more than that. His suspicions were confirmed a moment later.

"Ichigo..." Rukia said, quietly. "How... how are you? Really?"

He hadn't thought things would take a turn like this. He shrugged, trying to play it cool. "Fine, I guess." He knew she could see straight through him. He wasn't at rock bottom now that she was back, but he wasn't really fine, either.

"Ichigo..."

He looked away from her, grumbling, "Well, what do you want me to say? I feel like I'm drowning all the time? That I just want to sleep? That I'm never going to fucking be okay? You're not asking a question that has any good answers to it, Rukia."

"I don't want a _good answer_." She snapped. "I want the truth!"

"Why? Does it matter?"

"Of course it matters! If you're hurting, I want to help!"

"I'm. I'm fine." He didn't dare to look at her. "I'm not dying, so there's nothing you can really do... And besides. It's not like you're in the best condition either. Take care of yourself, first."

For a moment he thought he'd somehow managed to get her off his case. A second later, though, the illusion was shattered. She pressed her hand into his, and after a second of fumbling, they'd locked their fingers together.

He looked back to her.

"I..." She looked at her lap, brows furrowed as she thought. "I know that we can't just... _fix_ things. But we can't go on like this, either. This emptiness will take time to go away, and I know that. I know it's always going to kind of be there, in some way or another. It's not something you can fight. But we can't just go on like this! It's eating you alive, Ichigo, and it kills me to watch and know how it feels. This isn't- this isn't something we can just ignore. But it doesn't have to be hopeless. Together we're stronger- so much stronger, Ichigo. It's always been true. Rely on me, and we can make our lives so much better than they are now. You know I won't disappear again. And if I do, I'll find a way back. I promise."

For a second he just stared at her.

Her quiet admission was lengths more than anyone had done for him. Everyone he loved told him they were there for him, but after a time, it was like they'd give up. Like they'd expected him to get better, and when he hadn't, they'd left him to figure it out on his own. And here was Rukia, saying she knew the problem would never really go away, but that they would stand together anyway.

He didn't know what to say.

In a sea of misfortune and bloodshed, she was there. That yellow light at the end of the path, beckoning for him to come home; promising to light his way and stay by his side. And he loved her for that.

Loved. Not liked. Loved.

His grasp on her hand became firm. He swallowed.

"You've been strong for so long." She said. "But you don't have to be alone anymore."

That was all it took for his crumbling walls to break. He allowed his head to lower onto her shoulder as he let out a shuddering breath. He didn't want to cry- he was a man, and he was alright- he wasn't bleeding, or hurt, or dying. No one was. But he couldn't help the sting in his eyes, or the way her clothing blurred in his sight as tears collected in his eyes.

Her arms wrapped around him, holding his form against her as she stroked a hand through his hair. She pressed her face into the skin of his neck and whispered, "You fool," affectionately. "You damned fool."

His had gripped her hip as he sucked in a breath. He didn't want to accept the fact that he was crying, in front of someone else to boot, but Rukia's shoulder was becoming warm and wet as he tried to steady his breathing.

It had been so long. So, so long since he'd been able to be vulnerable before someone. All of the pain and frustration of that hellish year without his powers- all the lies, and the rumors, and the stares and whispers- all of it. Everything had been buried underneath his skin, building and swelling, weighing him down. He'd thought he would never be able to escape it, but suddenly she was offering him a deviating path from the one he'd thought he would have to follow. It was too much to hold in at once, and somehow, he didn't feel ashamed in her presence.

He realized that his neck was wet, and that Rukia was holding to him fiercely, like she was afraid he would turn into dust at any give moment. "I'm sorry." She breathed. "I'm so, so sorry, Ichigo. I should have come back. I just- I wanted you to have a normal life again. Without me causing you so much pain. I didn't know- I- I didn't think that..."

"It's fine." He took in another deep breath. "It's okay now. You're not leaving. And this- whatever the hell this is... we'll get through it. Together. Just like you said."

She nodded against him.

They stayed like that, for a moment, entwined on a bench in the middle of nowhere. Eventually they stopped crying, and broke apart, smiling a little in the dim. It was Ichigo that laughed first- a snort of sorts when he saw how wet Rukia's face was. She laughed, too, shaking her head at him. They breathed.

"Hey." Ichigo said.

"Hey." She returned. She pressed her forehead against his.

"Let's go home, shorty."

"Yeah." She laughed again. "Lets."

Together they journeyed back down the hiking trail, closer and closer to the light they'd left behind. When they reached it he crouched down before her, like old times, and grinned as she clamored up onto his back. He took a short-cut back home, with Rukia on his back, and when they arrived he put the dinner Yuzu had cooked him in the fridge, promising himself to actually eat it the next day.

For the first time in a long, long time, he felt that things were actually going to be okay. For the first time in a long, long time, he could see it; that soft yellow light, shining on with promise in the distance.


	2. Yellow Light- Part Two

Part Two

He could hear her breathing in the closet.

Ichigo had come home feeling reborn, that night, after talking with Rukia. He'd felt, for a while, that he'd have to drag through the rest of his life a miserable mess, waiting for a death that would bring him to a world where he was a hero again. But now... he didn't have to wait.

He looked over at the closet.

What god had created Rukia and sent her to him? Without her, he would be dead so many times over. He must have done something great in a past life to deserve her friendship- or perhaps it was a certain kind of fate that dictated no one could be so lonely and unhappy for so long, and had brought them together.

She wasn't perfect. Far from it- there were lots of things about her that absolutely drove him up the wall. She was violent, and she liked stupid things like Chappy and romance manga. She was too loud, and too proud, and she would argue that she was right even when she knew that she was wrong. They were things that would cause him to dislike any other person. In her, though, he found such traits to be a part of the bigger picture- the picture that was Rukia; whom he grudgingly had to admit he really did love.

She was strong, and yet, so small and soft. There was coiled muscle beneath her porcelain skin, and fire behind her glass-pool eyes. There was a sureness in her small hands, and callouses on the pads of her thin fingers. Everything fragile about her hid a greater strength, and for that, he admired her.

He wondered if she was sleeping, or if like him, she was laying wide awake. Night after night they'd stayed in bed- awake and wishing they could sleep. This was different; his soul wasn't tired anymore.

He shivered. Perhaps his body was tired. It was easier for him to break out in goose bumps when he was, and no matter how tightly he pulled the blanket around his shoulders, he couldn't seem to warm up.

There were extra blankets in the closet, of course, but if Rukia was asleep...

He heard her shift and sigh, a clear sign that she was awake.

Quietly, he slipped out of bed and padded over to the closet, inching it open slowly. She blinked up at him, pulling her thin blanket tighter over her shoulders as she shivered.

"Cold?"

She nodded.

He grabbed the wool blanket off the top shelf of the closet and nodded at his bed. "Come on."

She eagerly jumped up and followed behind him, her feet silent on the carpet. She waited as he slipped under the covers and threw the new blanket out over himself before climbing into bed beside him, burrowing into his side.

She pressed her cold feet against his calves.

"Rukia." He hissed.

"Well, I'm cold, damn it." She sniffed, haughtily.

"I'm not your personal heater, you know."

"What else are you good for?"

He glared down at her where she rested her head against his shoulder. "Getting things off the top shelf, for once. Abuse me like this and you can just have fun stacking chairs to get yourself a snack."

"And to think I turned down a room in my brother's house for this." She grumbled. Still, she inched closer to him, body relaxing as he put an arm around her. She put her hand on his stomach, gripping his shirt, and seemed finally to relax.

"Your brother would lose his shit if he knew you shared a bed with me."

"My brother would be displeased to think I shared a _house_ with you."

"Well he better get used to it."

"Which one?"

He didn't think before he spoke. "Both."

For a second, it was silent.

Ichigo was scrambling to think up a way to back-track from what he'd said, but all that he could think to say was, "Um, wait," while his brow furrowed and his cheeks tinted red. Suddenly his arm around Rukia didn't feel so natural.

"Oh shut up." She said, flippantly, but her hand was incredibly still where it lay on his stomach. "As if I'd let you warm my bed anyway."

"Well what the fuck do you call this?"

"Technically this is your bed."

"Yeah, because _you_ warming _my_ bed doesn't sound a million times worse."

"You're the one who said it!"

"Well I didn't mean it like that-" he yanked his arm out from underneath her, turning to scowl down at her. "-and you know it."

"Do I?"

He paused. Quietly, he mumbled, "You better."

Silence.

"Not that-"

"Not that-"

They both stopped.

"You go." Ichgio said.

She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms underneath the blankets. "Not that, you know, that's what's happening, obviously. Warming someone's bed has a pretty negative connotation behind it. I just meant-"

"Save it." He drawled. "I get it."

"W-well. Good."

"Yeah."

"Of course."

"Yeah."

She turned on her side, facing away from him. "Goodnight."

"Y-yeah." He lowered himself back down to the mattress. "Night." He was very aware of her warmth at his side.

It grew quiet again. Slowly, Ichigo's eyes began to close. All the awkwardness seemed to stay partially in the air between them, but he really was tired. He had settled down into the mattress on his side, facing away from her, and his breath was coming easier and steady, when suddenly:

"Not to say you wouldn't."

He groaned. "Rukia, shut up and go to sleep."

"Well I was just saying!"

He thought back over what she had said. _Not that I wouldn't? Not that I wouldn't what?!_ "I don't even know what the hell you _were_ saying."

"That it's not like you wouldn't."

"Wouldn't what?" He growled. He turned back over to face her.

"Warm my bed."

"Rukia, you know that Byakuya isn't going to let us room together in Soul Society. So no, I wouldn't. I like my head where it is- on my shoulders."

"Oh, come one." She rolled her eyes. "It's not like we're sleeping together."

"Then what do you call this?"

"I mean having sex."

He groaned again, slamming his face into the pillow. "Go to sleep!"

"Don't boss me around! We're best friends. We should be able to share a room at the Kuchiki Manner, don't you think? I mean it's just ridiculous to think that we'd have to be separated. Brother is reasonable."

"To you, maybe, but if you think he's going let me sleep within five miles of you, you're dead wrong."

"Well, he may not have a choice. You're practically my family."

"So is he, but I sure as hell know you wouldn't room with him."

"W-well, no, he's my brother-"

"So what does that make me?"

"..." She furrowed her brow. "I don't know. Just... Ichigo."

"Just Ichigo?"

She nodded. "There's not really any other category you fall into. You're just... you." She shrugged. "I mean, how would you categorize me? We're... we're more than friends. I've never been so deeply connected to anyone like this."

He thought about it. She was right. He didn't know what to call her other than, well, Rukia. There was no category for her. "I guess... But really, you can't expect your brother to understand that, can you?"

"He married a peasant." She reasoned. "He knows what it's like to be in a category that doesn't really exist."

"Well we're not married, in case you hadn't noticed." His face felt hot, saying that, so he scowled a little harder to cover it up. She noticed, of course. "And until we are, I'm pretty sure that he's going to be an asshole about me staying with you."

She stared at him.

"What?" He grumbled.

"Until we are?"

"Huh? Wait- shit, no, I- I didn't mean." He groaned and pushed his face into the pillow again. She didn't say anything, so he chanced looking at her. She was regarding him oddly; eyes narrowed slightly as she tilted her head to the side. "Um..." He couldn't remember what he'd been trying to say.

He turned a little more, to look at her. The way she was staring at him, with such an ardent sort of searching, didn't make him uncomfortable, somehow. He gazed back into her eyes, open, letting her look for what it was she wanted. While she searched his eyes, he looked into hers, memorizing the colors there.

He'd always noticed how incredible her eyes were, but up close, they were soul snatching. Light lilac melted into a deep violet, swallowed whole by her deep black pupils. There were tiny flecks of an icy almost white-purple in the lilac of her eyes- like snowflakes caught in amethyst.

She actually was very beautiful, despite all her rough edges. Up close, he could see the tiny scars that dotted her face, unlike when he was looking at her any other time.

She shifted a little closer, so that their foreheads were pressed together. It was hard to believe he'd been cold not so long ago, now that he was enveloped in warmth. He took in a shallow breath and brought her scent in with it; vanilla and something crisp- something close to mint, but not exact.

For a moment of bliss they stayed like that- noses almost brushing as they pressed their foreheads together, simply breathing. Beneath the blankets, Rukia's legs slowly slipped up over his, so that they were curled together. Her hand found his underneath the covers; fingers shy and shaky as they slipped between his.

His chest swelled with a sudden rush of emotion. He was hit with the desire to protect her, and hold her, even if she didn't need protecting or to be held. He wanted to be by her side, and to listen to her- to hear her laugh, and to be there when she smiled, or when she needed him, or when she was sad. He wanted to take every thing that hurt her away- so far away that she'd never remember being in pain to begin with- and then replace every nasty memory with something warm and amber. Yellow sunlight, or streetlights, or campfire.

He wanted and wished all in a single moment, breathing out slowly through his mouth as the swell ebbed to a bearable throb in his ribcage. Very aware of the noise the sheets made as he shifted against them, he leaned down and kissed her gently on her cheek.

She let an audible breath out between her lips. Her legs twined a little more around his, not allowing him time to think over or regret what he'd just done. They were close, so close... why shouldn't he kiss her like he was?

He kissed her cheek again; thumb brushing over the back of her hand where they were nestled under the covers. Her inhale stuttered as she said, "I-Ichigo..."

He pulled back just barely, pressing their foreheads together once more. He swallowed twice, mouth hot, but didn't say anything.

Ichigo listened to the sound of the sheets folding against each other as Rukia craned her neck in order to face him exactly. They were nose-to-nose, with scarcely a breath of space between them. Her face was flushed, and as he watched she swallowed hard.

As if magnetized, Rukia's eyes slowly dropped to his lips. She leaned forward just barely, eyes beginning to slide closed. Naturally gravitating towards her, Ichigo mirrored her actions.

His eyes closed just before his mouth found hers in a bloom of heat that sent his head spinning. He was aware of everything- her legs on his, and her hip against his abs- aware of her shoulder touching his and the hand she'd folded in his. His stomach was flooded with a deep warmth that made him dizzy and breathless.

They parted for a single breath, hot air billowing out from their parted lips, and then sealed their mouths together once more.

Ichigo raised the hand that wasn't in Rukia's, holding her closer, and plunged his fingers into her hair. She quickly disengaged her fingers from his and did the same, tugging on his hair with a firm fist as she parted her lips.

He followed her actions. Her mouth was warm and wet against his for a moment before they both closed their jaws again. Rukia made a noise close to a groan in the back of her throat and then pushed hard on his shoulder- forcing him onto his back.

She was sitting on his stomach a second later, straddling him, the blankets draped over her body like a cape. She gripped his hair in both of her hands and then bowed back down to meet him, hungry and heated as she pressed her tongue between his lips. His tongue met hers for a moment before they retreated, if only for a second before searching each other out once more. One of his hands found her hip, while the other crept slowly over her shoulder to mold against the back of her neck, holding her to him.

She seemed to dance against him in their kiss, touching, then leaving, then meeting, then retreating. She clutched at his hair with a grip like iron, eyebrows slanted down together in her almost painful onslaught of love for the man before her. His expression was a twin to the one she wore; so harshly in love with her that it felt like his chest was going to explode.

Outside the door, a floorboard creaked. They both froze, Rukia pulling away from his face to turn and stare at their door. Someone walked down the hall, and then the bathroom door closed. It was silent for a minute more, and then the door opened. Whoever it was walked back down the hall without stopping, and somewhere in the house, a bedroom door closed as one of the Kurosakis headed back to sleep.

His heart was drumming in his ribcage. It had been a very close call- and Ichigo wasn't sure what he would have done if they'd been caught. He was eighteen, and as such, could be doing these things. But even he wasn't exactly sure what he and Rukia were doing, and he didn't want for them to be separated by a family member before he could figure it out.

He turned back to her only to find she was already looking at him- eyes wide and almost alarmed. She let his hair go and sat back, placing a hand against her mouth as she shuttered once. "Wh-what was that?"

He swallowed hard again. "I..." His voice had dropped an octave. He cleared his throat. "I don't know."

"We were kissing." She sounded almost as though she were waking slowly from a dream, trying to recall the details before they slipped away from her. "We..."

"Do you have a category for me now?" He whispered.

She stared. "A..." Then her eyes widened a fraction more. She pressed her other hand against his chest, and dropped one from her mouth to her chest.

"I love you." He managed. His voice was rough, and he was half-scared that she would get up and run. He knew, though, that she wouldn't. He knew that she would stay.

Slowly, she seemed to melt, lowering herself over him until she was laying on top of him, their legs tangled again, head on his shoulder while her arms looped up around his head. "I love you."

He turned his head and kissed her neck. She gasped, quietly.

"Be my lover, then." Rukia demanded, voice soft.

"All right." He kissed the area behind her ear and wrapped his arms around her. Everything was right, all at once, and it was startling how easy he could breath all the sudden. His mind was at a sudden, easy peace- and even if darkness skirted the edges of his consciousness, he could ignore it just this once- driven out by light as it was.

"All right." Rukia repeated. She turned and kissed him over the mouth again, silently. "Warm my bed, for me, so that I can finally sleep, alright, lover boy?"

He grinned against her mouth, pecked her again, and then settled more comfortably against the mattress. "Sure thing, midget." She'd warm his bed in turn, after all, and finally he'd be able to sleep.

"Goodnight, Ichigo."

"Goodnight, Rukia."

He would follow her into the dark.


End file.
